How To Save A Goddess
by Tiki Rocket
Summary: Welcome to the Divine Protection Agency, a group that will pack heat for your safety! Meet Emi, Ari, Ryoko, and Mayaka, four women who are about to begin the job of their lives...


How To Save A Goddess  
By: Tiki Rocket  
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters except the original ones. Ooh, really descriptive... Anyway. My only right to any of this is paying ridiculous amounts of money on the fandom; I mean, come ON, I pay $31.65 (including tax) at Suncoast to buy a freakin' DVD, the LEAST you robbers can do is let me have some original fun with the characters...  
Description: Humor. The Goddesses of the world are being targeted by a mysterious force; who can stand in the way of divinity and total Chaos? What should happen if they fail? And, even worse, what if their job drives them insane before they have a chance to stop the enemy?  
  
Rule One: Coordinate A Team  
  
It was freezing outside; Early March is like that. Crows flew over head, landing on rooftops and badgering pigeons, fighting for the warmest place on poorly insulated homes. Even the birds hate this weather.  
The streets are not poorly kept, but they are far from clean; cigarette butts line the gutters, bits of dead leaves cluttering the drains from the few trees on the street, dark spots of stuff that was probably once chewing gum adhere to the sidewalk, and I thank God I'm not the poor fool that has to try and get the stuff off.  
Of course, my job probably pays less.  
I stop in front of my office door and fumble with the keys; it's cold enough that gloves don't matter, my fingers are numb anyway. Finally, I pull off the cumbersome and now- useless cover and get the right key, jam it into the lock, and twist, pushing inward and slamming the door shut behind me, leaving the freezing air that fills Metaphor City outside.  
The office- Divine Protection Agency- is warmer than the weather outside, but it doesn't feel like it when I set down my bag and take my coat off. The thermostat says it's barely 60; I turn the meter up to 78 and retire to the small kitchen, dragging my work bag behind me.   
Small is really an understatement; tiny is closer. There's a toaster oven, a mini stove, a few cupboards and a mini fridge taking up most of the counter space. Even on one of the counters, the fridge still doesn't quite reach eye level. I open it up and look inside; the bottom shelf is full of cherry cola- the only thing my co-workers and I will drink here besides coffee; it's the only thing we can agree on- and the second shelf has a left-over tray of sushi, some biscuits, and a package of ramen. I made a mental note to remind Emi that ramen doesn't need refridgeration, that's what the cupboards are for, then erased the note; Emi wasn't mentally sound, anyway.   
Emi wears a trenchcoat year round with microscopic shorts and a tube top underneath. If it's really cold, she puts on stockings. She wears her neon tangerine hair in twin pony tails on either side of her head, electric blue eyes shocking the system of anyone she looks at. She's usually carrying a micro-uzi or three in the folds of her trench; She says it's a job precaution, but I've seen the look in her eyes when she fires one- she likes the power. It may not have much range on it, but Emi doesn't care; she likes close range combat. Sometimes, I wonder why I hired her; usually, I'm glad I did.  
I take a can of the cherry cola and close the fridge door, then open a cupboard and pull out both the coffee and the coffeemaker. Ari, Emi's sister- who I didn't hire for family; I didn't find out until later- suggested instant coffee once. Once. After the rest of us nearly took her apart for the suggestion, she never mentioned it again. I suppose she was just trying to be practical; It's probably faster, cleaner, and involves less equipment. This office, however, is not known for practicality.  
You wouldn't know Emi and Ari are related. Ari has blue hair, which she keeps long and usually very professional, and orange eyes, which are initially a little surprising. Where Emi is a complete lunatic, Ari is level-headed. She does pack heat, but she keeps to more conservative tools with a revolver. I suspect she sometimes uses 'enhanced' bullets, but I don't question her methods; she gets the job done.  
She came in looking for a job as a secretary maybe a month after I hired Emi, wearing a professional looking blazer/skirt ensemble just a shade lighter than her hair. She had an immaculate resumé, having worked for several important businesses doing mostly paperwork. A secretary, however, wasn't really what I needed. Not wanting to turn her away, I asked if she could fire a gun at a living person. Without wavering, she said "as long as it was justifiable." I decided that was good enough and said, "You're hired!"  
Then Emi came bursting in.  
The screams were so loud you can still hear them echoing in the pipes of this building.  
"What the hell are you doing here?!" Ari shrieked, losing all that cool she'd had while addressing me.  
"Ari!! My wonderful sister, how are you doing?!"  
"Mom and Dad mentioned you had a job, but why HERE?! Get OUT you weed!"  
"Oh Ari, I've missed you so much! When did you call the 'rents? they didn't tell me! Ari, you really shouldn't have left home, it really made us all worried!"  
"I left because you were making me insane! And I specifically requested Mom and Dad not tell you I called because then you'd try to track me down!"  
"You are so silly, Ari, see? I didn't have to do any tracking! YOU came to ME!"  
"No I didn't!"  
The fight lasted until I finally stepped in and told both of them to shut up.  
"Emi, let go of your sister, I can hear her ribs cracking. Ari, calm down, take a deep breath, and explain slowly."  
Ari inhaled deeply as Emi released her grip, glared at her sister, and began, voice returning to the calm tone it had been earlier. "Three years ago I left home without any warning because I couldn't stand having that...sister of mine... constantly going through my room and rearranging everything. I have a very particular way that I keep my things, and she couldn't understand this. So I left and carried on life by myself. I worked, I was doing well, and about a month ago I called home to see how my parents were doing. They said Emi had gotten a job and was doing very well. I had quit my last job in favor of doing some thinking and reconsider my life. I decided I'd rather help people instead of just a person, so I started looking for a job like that. Then I found this place."  
I nodded. "And you figured that this job was perfect for helping to protect other people, so you ended up here this morning only to have your sister come crashing back into your life."  
"Exactly." She was now glaring in Emi's direction. Emi was humming softly to herself, twisting a strand of hair around her finger, not really paying attention to what we were discussing.   
"All right," I began. "How about I promise this? You two will never be made to work together unless all other options are out. Since Ari can handle secratorial work, she gets the computer up front; Emi, you get to have the small office in back."  
"Why do I have to use the small office?" Emi asked starting to pout.  
"Because all you need is enough space to do most Yoga positions to keep your energy levels down. If you need more space than that, go jogging around the block a couple times."  
That seemed to settle everything.  
I sit down in my office, which is next to Emi's room. Shortly after all these decisions were made, I'd had the wall reinforced and sound proofed; now, when Emi smacks into the wall, I hear nothing except a small thud. I sit behind my desk and turn on my computer and wonder- though not for the first time- if maybe I should decorate more in here. The walls throughout the building have wood paneling on them, and have since before I began using the place. my office in particular has very little decoration to it; No pictures, no posters, no flowery looking things. It doesn't say much about me. Or maybe, in it's emptiness, it says plenty.   
I hear the front door open and flick on the monitor for the camera I have hidden in the front room. It's cleverly hidden, I think; it's barely noticable and tucked into one of the knots in the wood in the front, near the desk. I'm not disappointed to see that it isn't a customer; I avoid dealing with them until after Ari has gotten their information logged into the computer. The unassuming figure looks squarely at the knot, sharp, burgundy gaze incriminating, but I see she's smiling. Ryoko. She waves a little as she walks towards the kitchen, short, deep green hair bouncing a little with each step. She's the one with the curves around here; Sir Mixalot probably wouldn't complain about how much back or rack she's got.   
Ryoko looks a lot crueler than she is. She's a flirt, sharp tongued, fast handed, and easily the best friend I could ever ask for. She was the first person I hired; really, she was the first friend I made when I came here. We came up with Divine Protection Agency together, and while I was the one heading the project, it's my name all the information is under, she's about as in charge of this as I am.  
A few moments later, Ryoko walks into my office and sits down in the chair nearest my desk. "Morning, Mayaka. Sleep well?"  
"Not really," I respond. "Six hours. Better than usual, at least. You?"  
"Seven," she says with a grin. "You're catching up to me. Maybe you should lay off the coffee?"  
"Nah, I like it too much." We sit in silence, drinking our colas and waking up slowly. We've come to refer to this as the Morning Zen time; Ari walked in on us sitting quietly one morning and gave it that title, because to her that's what it looked like. Maybe it is.  
We sit for another half hour when the door opens and closes heavily again and Ari walks in, dropping her work bag by the front desk computer, almost stomps into the kitchen, and starts the coffee. I hear her nearly tear open a can of soda and chug half of it, then thunder towards my office.  
"I can't BELIEVE people in this city!" she vents. "Some guy started hitting on me about a block from here! It's barely even eight in the morning, doesn't he know that?! At least wait until after lunch, at least then people will shoot down advances in a polite manner..."  
"How'd you turn him down?" I ask, trying to hide my amusement.  
"I tested that stun gun you made us all start carrying around a while back. I've never had need to use it before now, but I'm about ready to call it my new best friend."  
"Oh?" Ryoko ask. "Why the change?"  
"Because it dropped the guy in about a second flat." She pulls it out and kisses the handle.  
"Just don't abandon your revolver," I comment. "Better for long range."  
"I know," she sighs. "Maybe I should try making them into a two-in-one package, then I don't have to keep two hiding spots for them..."  
She walks out of the room and back towards the kitchen. Ryoko and I look at each other and laugh as quietly as possible.  
Hours pass, we all realize, at almost the exact same time, how quiet the place is.  
"Hey, Ari, do you know where Emi is?" Ryoko asks.  
"I don't know and I don't care," Ari states bluntly. "Maybe someone came in late last night and she took whatever job they were offering and she just hasn't checked back in yet."  
"I suppose she might do that," Ryoko replies thoughtfully. "But as scatter brained as she is, she usually remembers to add the data into the computer, or at least notify someone of where she's going..."  
"No notices, no computer data," I announce from my office. "Maybe she forgot to come to work?"  
"She usually doesn't do that," Ryoko says. "Unless she's in trouble..."  
But then we notice Ari is looking suspiciously at the closed door to Emi's office. Ryoko and I nod at each other, and the three of us approach the door cautiously.  
There is no sound coming from within, and there is no light coming out from under the door. There is a sign hanging on the door that says "EMI'S DUNGEON", which makes perfect sense to us; the place, to anyone else, might come off as a torture chamber. Posters of bands that look more like zombies cover the walls, save a few Gackt posters I'm almost jealous of her for owning. The lights, when on, are never that bright, because two of the four ceiling lights are red bulbs. We open the door with seemingly over-exaggerated caution, and flick on the lightswitch.   
The gigantic pillow in one corner has blankets thrown over it in an unassuming pile, but we can all see the bit of bright orange hair sticking out. She fell asleep in the office last night.  
We breath a collective sigh of relief before exiting, and I close the door only after calling for Emi to wake up. Because she's done this a few times before, I know it's wise to grab some cherry cola and stick it inside the door and let her awaken on her own. We still have time in the day.  
As I return to my office, I notice Ari is speaking with someone- a customer- at the desk. I sit down and watch the exchange on the monitor screen.  
She's average height, with brown hair tied back and the tail of it resting on her collarbone in a motherly fashion. She looks incredibly peaceful and maternal, over all, though she can't be over 20 years. I pull up on my screen what Ari is typing, catching pieces of the hushed conversation from the other room.  
"...So you see, my relatives and I are in very terrible trouble," I could hear her explaining. "We would very much like your help."  
"All right, just a minute,"Ari says, and I hear her chair squeak across the floor as she stands to come talk to me.  
"You reading that file?" she murmurs. I nod, feeling a little disbelieving at what I'm reading. Kasumi Tendou, no age or birthdate given, currently residing in Nerima, occupation...  
"Can you believe it? This woman wants me to believe she's a goddess!" 


End file.
